


Azula: Black Sun

by tangymustard (zestymayonaisse)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Azula Gets Banished, Canon-atypical violence, Healing, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:20:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25873489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zestymayonaisse/pseuds/tangymustard
Summary: The Hundred Year War is over, but its effects are still reverberating through out the world. In the Earth Kingdom, demands for the expulsion of Fire Nation colonists have become deafening. After the deliberation of her fate by the newly-crowned Fire Lord Zuko, Azula faces a new world on her own.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

With the end of the Hundred Year War, the world began its uneasy transition into a new era of peace. After so long, the time had finally come for the marching armies to return home and for the difficult process of rebuilding to begin.

Every nation approached the challenges posed by the sudden social upheaval brought by the war's end in their own unique way; none more so than the Fire Nation, which had acted as the aggressor during the conflict. The colonies found themselves isolated and without protection, resting on the fringes of an increasingly volatile Earth Kingdom. The home islands settled into a new sense of normal under the enlightened rule of the newly-crowned Fire Lord Zuko. Yet, the appearance of calm was an illusion, for the young monarch’s rule was already marked by many wild accusations and controversies.

‘Failure,’ ‘Exile,’ and ‘Despot’ were just a few names that had branded Zuko—his prior banishment meant he had no legitimate claim to the throne anymore. His swift seizure of power and sudden reforms, despite their noble intentions, were inevitably going to cause discontent. So it was to be expected when he moved to exact justice upon his father, the previous Fire Lord, for crimes committed during the war. He ordered his father’s very name stricken from history. Whispers of tyranny became deafening within the Royal Court. Unperturbed, though, Zuko pressed on and granted his father’s personal request to be allowed to be sealed away away deep within a remote volcanic region to mediate on his actions.

Unfortunately his father’s fate was not only one problem laid at Zuko’s feet. There was another family matter that required his attention as well, but it troubled him far more. When he failed to reach a solution while mediating, he decided to seek council from his most trusted advisor, his uncle. Zuko and Iroh had traveled across the world together, so it was logical there was no man the Fire Lord trusted more to provide sound advice.

On a cool afternoon, the two men met in the palace gardens. Under the shade of the gazebo, Zuko leaned against the wooden railing and watched as several turtleducks floated around happily in the water. His stomach hurt; the stress of ruling was already getting to him. He sighed wistfully and said, “Still feels strange to be back home after so long.”

“And as Fire Lord, no less. Quite a fortunate change of fate, I would say,” Iroh said, standing to his right, a steaming cup of rich lapsang souchong in his hand. He took a sip with a serene look on his face.

“I would hardly call it fortunate,” Zuko said morosely, allowing his self-doubt to come up to the surface. “The court sees me as nothing more than an illegitimate tyrant.”

“Those who find great success during times of conflict are always resistant to peace. Old politicians will always be stuck in their ways. But in the end, they will come around… Trust me, I would know a thing or two about being old,” Iroh said jokingly, tugging on his grey beard. “Do not fret. There are far worse outcomes than an exile ruling. Just look at the Earth Kingdom.”

Zuko glanced over as his uncle, who took another even more satisfied drink of tea. “The regency council still hasn’t had any success, then?”

“The throne room in Ba Sing Se sits vacant. It is only a matter of time until someone attempts to claim the mandate to rule for themselves, regardless of the council’s wishes,” Iroh mused, reflecting on how easy a monarchy could be undone. Knowing his nephew had enough on his plate, he chose to leave out some of the more troubling rumors regarding recent attacks on former colonies.

“Perhaps we could help them. The last thing the world needs is more fighting,” Zuko said rather naively, clasping his hands together. A gentle breeze caressed his face.

Iroh spit out some tea in an exaggerated fashion and shook his head. “Are you mad? Think about how that would look… the last thing the Earth Kingdom needs is the Fire Nation stepping in on its politics.” He crudely wiped off his mouth with his sleeve. “It is best to let it be. Our citizens who wanted to return have already. Those who stayed know the risks.”

“Maybe you are right, uncle,” Zuko said giving a short nod in agreement. The last thing he wanted to do was appear to be launching another invasion. “I now understand why Aang decided to a step back for awhile. Fixing everything is impossible.”

“He just needs to rest a little. Saving the world can be pretty exhausting,” Iroh said, running hand through his beard. He glanced over at his nephew, changing the subject. “The letter you left mentioned your sister.”

Zuko took a deep breath. He knew he couldn’t keep ignoring the issue. He stayed silent, watching the turtleducks, before finally speaking. “She escaped again. We found her burning the gardens.” He pointed over to several burnt shrubs, and the blackened grass around them.

“Hmm. I must have slept through it,” Iroh muttered. This was the first time he heard about the event.

“You did,” Zuko said, impressed with his uncle’s ability to always avoid getting wrapped up in family drama. “I’ve just been thinking… maybe keeping her locked away isn’t fair anymore.”

Iroh’s brow furrowed and his jovial attitude disappeared. “Have you forgotten, nephew? Azula is crazy. I do no think there is anything to be done for her.”

“But she is still my sister. With father gone…” Zuko trailed off, shifting uneasily. “Well… It’s just, this time, when the guards took her away,” he paused to sigh, then continued, “She was afraid.”

“I would take such a performance with a grain of salt,” Iroh said, wary of his niece's ability to manipulate pretty much anyone. “Besides, it is probably for the best to leave her. Azula has a stronger claim to the throne, and it is possible your detractors could rally behind her to depose you.”

“Right, but you taught me anyone can redeem themselves,” Zuko said, changing his tact, if only to convince himself to be lenient with his sister. “The people have already condemned her as mad. Stronger claim or not, the court would incite a revolt if it stood behind her.”

“Perhaps,” Iroh said, mulling over his nephew’s words. “But even still, letting her out is dangerous. You better have a plan.”

“I am not suggesting she lives with us,” Zuko said, knowing his sister would not hesitate to slit his throat while he slept. “We could banish her from the home islands. That way she will at least be free of that tiny cell. Who knows? Maybe fresh air will help.”

Iroh seemed troubled, looking into his tea thoughtfully. After a moment of silence he forced a smile. “If that is what the Fire Lord believes is best, then it is what I believe is best.” He shrugged and added, “Though I would be ready in case she reacts poorly.”

“I will be prepared,” Zuko said with a nod, grateful that at least one person was willing to support him. He offered a respectful bow. “Thank you as always for your council, Uncle.”

“Think nothing of it,” Iroh said as his nephew left him. Alone once more, he could enjoy the things that truly mattered in life, and decided to take a seat at the water’s edge in order to finish his tea in peace.

-

When first thrown into her cell located at the top of the Capital City prison tower, Azula was confident that she would not break. However, as the days dragged on—roughly thirty seven, if the symmetrical tallies scratched into the stone wall above her sleeping mat were any indication—the intense isolation she was being subjected to started to chip away at her fragile sanity.

Already deeply paranoid that others were plotting against her, Azula alternated between arguing with a hallucination of her absent mother and being convinced that the prisons guards were going to try and kill her while she slept. The dark bags under her eyes were not an aesthetic choice. Curled up in the corner of the cell, Azula anxiously tried to keep her eyes on every corner of the room.

It felt as though the shadows themselves, cast by a single pitiful crack in the roof, were closing in around her. In them, she could see the silhouettes of her former friends sharping their knives. Her fear taking over, Azula lashed out, “Begone!” A pathetic burst of blue fire shot out into darkness, briefly lighting the room.

But the shadows reformed, advancing toward her again. Azula whimpered, pulling her knees close against her chest. She jerked her head down, shutting her eyes tightly. After a painfully long time, she felt a change in the atmosphere around her and gritted her teeth, already knowing full well who had come to torment her.

“Oh, Mother… I was wondering when you were going to return,” Azula muttered, her voice coming out as a rough whisper as she looked over.

Seated next to her in the dark was the specter of Azula’s mother, Ursa, who offered a cold, indifferent smile. “It is not my wish to disturb you, dear. I am just concerned is all.” She reached over, the red sleeve of her red robe hanging toward the ground.

“Do not… touch me,” Azula hissed, doing her best to move away from the outstretched hand. Her stomach churned at the thought and she shuddered.

Ursa looked hurt, and started to frown. “Why do you push me away, Azula? I have always loved you.”

“You have? Could have fooled me,” Azula said, her eyes darting away. She had already had this conversation a mind numbing amount of times. “I am a monster, right?” Losing her cool she shouted, “Tell the truth! Those were your words!”

Ursa remained unfazed by her daughter’s pain, and sneered. “You… are a monster, Azula.” Her daughter’s eyes widened and she gestured to the cell around them both. “And I could not think of a more appropriate place for a monster to be kept.” Her malevolence vanished and she smiled again. “Besides… Zuko has enough on his plate cleaning up after you. It’s better you stay locked away.”

What little color remained in Azula’s face soon drained, and she started to dig her last good nail into her hand. Weakly, she pleaded, “Just leave me alone. I am too tired for this right now.”

“No. What kind of mother would I be if I left my only daughter?” Ursa asked, suddenly hovering over her child’s huddled form. She reached down, running a freezing hand through Azula’s black hair, leaving Azula’s scalp tingling. “Still uneven… Surely you can do better.”

Breathing erratically, Azula screeched, leaping to her feet. “Stop tormenting me! I have never needed you!” She reared her head back and blew out a magnificent stream of blue fire, engulfing the ghost of her mother.

A discomforting silence overtook the room as she stood there shaking uncontrollably, but it, too, was soon interrupted by the sound of the heavy iron door being flung open. Before Azula could react, three guards rushed in, pushing her to the ground. Each one took care to pin a different limb while facing her head toward the door. Four more entered, each taking a position in the corner to ensure she would have no chance to break free.

Azula struggled against her captors, but they held firm and she responded with a smirk. “What is the matter? Do I frighten you?”

The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances, more than aware of her prowess in combat. A few of their comrades had already met grisly ends at the mad princess’s hands, after all. Measured footsteps could be heard approaching, echoing off the stone floor. Azula craned her neck to see who was coming.

As she expected, her brother walked in, the traditional garb noticeably ill-fitting despite attempts to have it hemmed to fit his smaller frame. Sill smirking, Azula couldn’t help but snicker. “Oh, Zuzu… It is so nice of you to stop by.”

Zuko bristled slightly, but was quick to remind himself he had come with a reason. Bringing his temper back under control, he said, “Good evening, Azula.” He noticed the charred walls. “I see you chose to redecorate.”

“Have to do something to past the time in this cage,” Azula retorted, staring daggers into him as she pushed against the men holding her in place. Frustrated, she tried to change her tune, “Come on, we are… siblings.” She seemed to choke on the word. “If you want to talk, let us do so as family.”

“You are going to have try harder than that, Azula,” Zuko said, knowing full well she was lying. Though, part of him could not help but pity his sister. Her face was covered in dust, with some blueish-black bruises on her forehead and scratches around her neck that he assumed were self-inflicted. Coupled with her dingy red tunic, she looked rather haggard. He came forward and knelt down in front of her, trying to appear non-threatening. “The guards tell me you are refusing meals.”

“Of course. _Your_ men are trying poison me,” Azula growled. She had overheard two guards talking during a patrol, discussing the need to make room for new prisoners. “I bet you put them up to it, Zuzu. Well, too bad! If you want to get rid of me that badly, do it yourself.”

Zuko glanced over at the guard on the right holding down her arm, and the man slowly shook his head. The Fire Lord nodded and addressed his sister, “I am not trying to—”

“Stop lying!” Azula yelled, interrupting him. “You have already taken everything else from me! Why not go ahead and take my life too!”

“Hmm.” Zuko sighed, realizing she was never going to be reasonable in this regard. “Alright, in this case I do need you to listen to me.” Childishly, Azula scoffed and tried to turn her head away. He continued unbothered, “I have decided I can’t leave you here. Unfortunately, I also can’t risk simply freeing you either… So tomorrow morning, you will no longer be a princess of the Fire Nation.”

“Ah!” Azula let out an audible gasp, and looked at him, in shock. “You don’t mean…”

“Yes. I am banishing you from the home islands,” Zuko said, standing again. He took a step back toward the door. “For what it’s worth, it’s not really that bad. There is a ton of good food out there.”

In an uncomfortable moment of vulnerability, Azula started to quiver, angrily crying out, “You cannot do that! You have no right!” She attempted to rear her head back in order to burn her brother, but one of the guards acted quickly, shoving her head to the ground. From the corner of her eye, Azula was certain she could see her mother grinning maliciously, and before she realized it, tears were dripping down her cheeks. “No, no! I am better than you! A worthless excuse for a Fire Lord… The throne is suppose to be mine!”

Zuko paused, putting a hand on the door frame. “I’m sorry. But this is for the best.”

As he left, Azula yelled after him, “I won’t forget this! I promise you, Zuko! I will be back for what is mine!”

The guards quickly vacated, the final man closing door and locking it behind him. Azula remained motionless on the ground, unable to even muster the strength to stand. Slowly she rolled onto her side, hearing her mother’s voice. “How pathetic… Surely you can see that your brother is trying to help you.”

Azula remained silent, numb to the world around her, until she finally passed out from exhaustion.

-

Mercifully, Azula was granted a dreamless sleep. She only woke when the guards entered her cell. To the three soldier’s shock, she did not even try to resist as they fixed chains around her wrists and ankles. A third guard appeared, one who had been studying pressure points in order to keep better control of unruly prisoners, and tapped several points on her back. As both of her arms fell limp, Azula glared at him. “That is a neat trick. Please… send Ty Lee my regards.”

“I’m sorry?” The guard raised an eyebrow, looking rather confused, throwing a glance at his comrade who spun a finger near his ear.

“But I am just one girl. Surely this charade is overkill,” Azula said, trying to invoke an unnatural whine.

The guard laughed and roughly pushed her forward. “Hah! Come on now, lets get this over with.”

“How insolent!” Azula resisted at first, but eventually relented. She focused her energy on imagining all the ways she would rend her brother’s flesh from his bones if given the chance. In a display of childishness, she intentionally dragged her feet as much as possible, making the march through the corridor an agonizingly slow process. The jeers of other prisoners echoed around her, but Azula remained difficult to the frustrations of the guards.

In fact, it wound up taking nearly thirty minutes to reach the winding staircase in the center of the prison and almost another hour before she found herself standing outside. The sun’s heat was a welcome change from the damp, mold-ridden cell. she blinked rapidly, her eyes adjusting to the bright light. There was a waiting closed-top carriage, which she was quickly hoisted into. Once inside, it lurched forward, heading for the dockyards.

Zuko was already waiting at the edge of the pier, an introspective look on his face as he gazed out across the calm waters. Hearing the clinking of her chains, offering a solemn smile as he turned to face his sister one last time. Even now, despite Azula’s disdainful glare, he had a gentleness behind his eyes. Softly, he said, “Allow me to be the first to wish you safe travels.”

“I hope you choke,” Azula shot back, waving her arms ineffectually at him. “Agi-kai brother. Right now. I want a rematch.”

Zuko shook his head, having expected such a demand, “No.” When her eyes narrowed he sighed and continued, “We already had one, and right now, you have a ship waiting.”

Azula gritted her teeth, grinding bone against bone until her jaw began to ache. Behind him, she saw a pathetically small Cruiser-class vessel, with two smokestacks jutting upwards from the deck. She lost her cool for a moment, shouting at him, “Are you trying to humiliate me, brother? This ship is disgraceful! I am royalty!” He did not respond, enraging her, and she tried to bolt forward only to be held in place. “Fine… Unlike you I won’t beg to be allowed to stay.”

“That is good. Making a scene wouldn’t change my mind, anyway,” Zuko said, motioning with his head toward some of the other guards behind her. They quickly moved down on the dock, boarding the ship.

Azula locked eyes with him, and stepped forward as far as she could before a guard held her in place. “You are a miserable excuse for a brother. I… despise everything about you.” Her voice cracked in an embarrassing fashion and she looked down. Using her sleeve, she wiped her eyes, and sniffed loudly. Jerking her head upward she said, “I _hate you._ ”

Zuko made a genuinely pained expression, shutting his eyes, and nodded. “Okay.” With that, he walked toward his waiting carriage, pausing next to her. “Oh, and one more thing. Do not bother trying to convince the crew of your claim. I already vetted their loyalty.”

Her only response was to spit in his face. He stepped back, startled, and just shook his head. He wiped his cheek and walked away.

-

Once aboard, Azula found herself standing front of the entrance to the captain’s quarters. She glanced at the guard to her right and asked sarcastically, “For me? You shouldn’t have.”

He grunted and undid the chains around her wrist, before dropping down to unhook the ones around her ankles. “The Fire Lord was clear. Until you set foot off the ship, you are to be treated with the respect of royalty.”

Just as he was starting to stand, Azula gave him a hard kick in the stomach and slammed her head into the man behind her before dropping down, tripping the final guard as well. Though before she could make a break for it, the first soldier tackled her to the ground. Despite drawing blood with a sharp bite to his hand, he managed to drag her into the room, then made a hasty retreat.

The door closed loudly behind her. Hearing the lock click softly, Azula groaned in annoyance and stood there, rubbing her wrists. This new room was at the very least an improvement over the prison cell. Two red lanterns on the wall bathed it in a soft light, leaving the far side where the sleeping mat was located in shadow. In front of her was a writing desk, ornately etched with a golden dragon across it. The ship blew its horn, indicating it was departing soon. Curious, she took a seat at the table, sliding open its drawer.

Inside she found paper, ink, and calligraphy brushes. Nothing of use. She reached further into the back, hoping to find… _something_. Intriguingly, her fingers brushed against a rectangular wooden box and she slid it out.

There was a silver clasp holding it shut. Warily, Azula popped it open, expecting a trap. She stared at the contents—a small assortment of makeup brushes. She was completely baffled, but slowly a smile crawled onto her face, and soon she was giggling hysterically. Her stomach hurt with the effort, and she nearly fell backwards, catching herself at the last second.

Slowly her smile faded, and in a flash, the entire container crashed against the wall with its contents scattering across the floor. “Do _not_ patronize me, brother.”

“You really are too hard on him,” Ursa said appearing to crouch down near the mess. “What’s wrong dear? You used to take pride in doing your makeup.”

“Yes, and I used to be a princess,” Azula responded dismissively, unable to see the point in keeping up appearances anymore. Frustrated, she opted to rest her head on the table. “How… how did this happen? Zuzu has never been very bright.”

The ship rocked gently and she felt sick again. Ursa snickered. “And yet he outplayed you.” She appeared to Azula’s right and leaned in close. “Do not be jealous… Your future is elsewhere, dear. Preferably… somewhere you cannot harm anyone.”

Azula winced, her mother’s words a needle prick. Without her bending she had lost the one thing that made her superior to her brother. The idea filled her with a sense of self-loathing that settled in the pit of her stomach. She rubbed her head, matting up her hair. “Useless…”

“Not to worry. I will always stay by your side, Azula,” Ursa said, running a finger along her daughter’s neck. “Now. Don’t you think it’s time to clean that disgusting face of yours? Honestly, I thought I taught you better.”

“Yes, mother…” Azula said softly, unable to cultivate the energy to argue. She ran a finger across her cheek, and sure enough, it came back covered in grime. She sighed and stood up, feeling her mom’s eyes following her as she dragged herself over to a bucket of fresh water sitting at the foot of the sleeping mat.

Azula wet a rag next to it and aggressively scrubbed her face raw. Once finished, she asked, “Satisfied?”

“Very good, but you are not finished,” Ursa murmured, looking down at her daughter. She pointed a finger at the mess left by the make up container.

“Right,” Azula said, walking over. She knelt down and began to collect the various brushes. Noticing one was broken in the middle, creating a jagged point, she stared at it thoughtfully, “This will do.”

-

Sometime during the middle of her second night on the ship, Azula woke from a frightful dream to the sounds of a powerful storm blowing outside. Groggily, she sat up and took time to survey the room, making sure her mother wasn’t going to appear.

A flash of lightning illuminated the room, and she breathed a sigh of relief, grateful to be alone. A crash of thunder followed, causing her to flinch. She carefully crept over to the square window positioned above the table, listening to the rhythmic tapping of hail against the metal walls.

Gracefully, she jumped onto it to get a better look and peered out curiously at the merciless sea. Sheets of rain cut through the air, making it difficult to see into the distance, but another flash of lightning lit the area and her eyes widened.

Approaching at a terrifying speed was an Empire-Class Battleship, but this one was waving yellow banners sporting a symbol she could not make out. Her first thought was pirates, watching as a trebuchet on the attacking vessel flung a flaming rock upwards into the sky

“Excellent,” Azula whispered, excited at the chance to escape her current predicament. She sprinted over to the door and waited. The projectile connected with the ship, causing it to rock violently. She faked a convincing cry of pain, then took her position at the side of the door.

Sure enough, her ruse worked; the door unlocked, and two guards rushed inside to check if she was hurt. Azula sprung into action, stabbing one in the side with the brush before shoving him into his comrade. With both momentarily out of the way, she rushed outside and laughed. “Surprise.”

She pushed the door closed and locked both men inside. Azula turned, trying to hear if anyone else had heard the commotion. Her concentration was interrupted by another loud bang, which caused the red light in the hallway to flicker. Hastily, she bee-lined for the staircase that lead up onto the deck.

A panicked yell caused her to step to the side, hoping to avoid being seen. A soldier in red and black armor tumbled down the stairs, dropping his spear. Hastily, he crawled over to grab it, spinning back around just as a tendril of water wrapped around his legs.

Azula watched in awe as he was dragged back up and vanished. Azula followed, now excited to find out who was attacking them.

-

Outside the storm had started to dissipate, the hail replaced with a misty, drizzle, and the wind quieted from its earlier howl. Stepping onto the deck, Azula saw that the battleship with yellow banners had used massive harpoons fired from several ballista on its deck to attach it to cruiser she was standing on. The chains held the smaller ship in place, dwarfed by hulking shadow of the battleship.

A few feet away were two figures, one cloaked in white robes with golden stitching and one adorned black armor, in the process of finishing the crew’s survivors. Azula squinted, noticing that the figure in white was a woman with black hair that stopped just below her shoulders. She could’ve sword she saw a shifting movement beneath the collar of her robes, something living and coiling around her neck.

Wordlessly the strange woman directed a stream of water, wrapping it around the throat of the Fire Nation Captain, suspending him in the air. The man beside her, whose head was wrapped tight in white cloth, swiftly dodged an incoming blast of fire shot by the remaining soldier. He lept forward, slicing upward with his blade and cutting into the soldier deeply. Red blood splashed the deck before the soldier collapsed.

Sarcastically Azula clapped slowly as she approached. “Nice work… But I could do better.”

The two figures turned slowly, and a sickening snap rang out as the woman crushed the trachea of the Captain. She dropped his body onto the deck with a dull thud. Her face displayed no emotion; in a monotone voice, she said, “A… child?” The curling under her collar stopped, and out peeked a snake’s head—no, two heads, joined together at the neck, which Azula now saw their four beady black eyes watching her.

“More than a match for a couple of pirates,” Azula said, bolting toward her opponents. The woman remained motionless, but the swordsman jumped in front of her, swinging at Azula, who avoided his attack by sliding underneath the blade effortlessly. “Try harder.” She dropped to the ground, kicking his kneecap causing him to stumble.

The man quickly regained himself, moving backwards with his kilij pointed at the former princess. Curiously she noted a second sword which remained on his back. She was unimpressed and held out both hands to take a defensive posture as the two circled each other. His right eye was white, but his left eye, a dark brown, widened in surprise. “You are…!”

“Oh? Do you know who I am?” Azula asked, taking a few steps closer to her opponent. “Come to assassinate me, no doubt.”

The swordsman moved backward, his look of shock fading. He altered his footing, watching her movements carefully. Ignoring her statement, he said, “I have no intention of being drawn in.”

Azula clicked her tongue and adjusted her stance. “Hmm. Was I too obvious? Fine then—” She feigned a jab left and followed up with a kick, her heel hitting him in the torso. He pushed her back, and using both hands, slashed downward.

She winced, feeling her shoulder sting as the tip of the sword cut through the thin fabric and just barely slicing across Azula’s skin. Luckily, she was able to capitalize on his over extension by darting to his right, kicking his side. He jerked away, surprised by her move and nearly dropped his sword. She snickered coldly. “Ah, too bad. I was hoping for a challenge.”

It was then she remembered there was another still standing on the deck. She released the man, leaping to the right and narrowly avoiding a spear of ice. The woman’s face was still eerily expressionless Coldly, she declared, “Enough. I have need of a fleet.”

“Is that all?” Azula asked, retreating back a few feet in order to keep both her opponents in view. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I need this ship too.”

The swordsman reached up, wrapping his hand around the hilt of his second sword. “Should I finish her, my lady?"

“You may certainly try,” Azula said confidently. She maintained her posture, fully prepared to go down fighting.

The woman gently stroked the snake clinging to her, rubbing her hand across its heads, which the snakes seemed to smile in response. “No… This one’s chi is blocked. It’s not an equal fight.”

Azula raised an eyebrow as the swordsman nodded, returning his kilij to its black scabbard. “Do not patronize me. It changes nothing,” Azula said indignantly.

“Foolish girl,” The woman chided, raising her hands as the snake’s right head dropped. Instantly her pale gray eyes were replaced with a pair of elliptical yellow, and she hissed sticking out a forked tongue. In that instant Azula lost control of her body.

Not that, rather—she could feel herself ordering her body to struggle, but her limbs were frozen in place. Her heart seized painfully, the world utterly silent from the halt of the blood rushing in her ears. The sounds of crashing waves became sharp, and she felt a vice grip around her heart. With it, a panic threatened to overwhelm her. She understood; there was no way a simple waterbender could have overpowered so many proud Fire Nation soldiers. She was bloodbending.

The realization came too late, however. She felt each agonizing tug on her limbs as she was puppeted to the edge of the deck, each motion causing her stomach to lurch. Each painful tug on her muscles forced her into a jerking march, every nerve in her body screaming in pain. She growled through her shut jaw, “You…!”

“Killing a weakened opponent is distasteful,” the woman said, as though this was just some tedious task. “Though I doubt someone from the Fire Nation would understand.” With that, she forced Azula to jump overboard into water. The frigid waves rushed around her, and she struggled to regain the feeling in her limbs.

The last thing she saw was the woman in white watching her distantly as she floundered in the icy waters; the woman raised her arms in a single motion, and Azula found herself swept under, wind knocked out of her as a cresting wave knocked into her.

-

The melodic chirping of a blue jay was the first sound Azula recognized as she came to. Dazed, her eyes fluttered open to a cloudless blue abyss above her. Immediately, she realized she couldn’t breathe; she rolled over, panicked, and vomited up seawater onto the muddy shoreline.

She pushed a hand into the wet earth to steady herself. When the world finally stopped spinning, Azula looked around. As far as she could tell, she was on a beach, and a disgusting one at that—but it seemed she was alone. The situation caused her temper to flare and angrily she slapped the mud, causing it to splash up. “What was that about!? They stole my ship!”

“I always used to admire you ability to remain calm under pressure,” Ursa said sarcastically, then gave an exhausted sigh.

“Quiet,” Azula said, trying to cut off the stream of ridicule before it could begin. She was already having enough trouble focusing.

“To think… You used to be unrivaled in combat,” Ursa said absent-mindedly, using her hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

Azula closed her eyes. “I do not need your input.” With that, she huffed and struggled to her feet. She cocked her head to the left, knocking water out of her ear. She felt something in her hair; reaching up, she pulled out a slimy piece of seaweed from her hair with a groan. “Disgusting…”

She shook her hand clean for good measure, and Ursa asked, “I take it you have a plan then?”

“You know what? I don’t actually,” Azula answered, wondering what her father might do if he was in the same situation. Her stomach growled, reminding her she had other pressing concerns. She puffed out her cheeks in frustration and stumbled her way through the wet shore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first (and likely only) Avatar fic. I felt compelled to write this because I enjoy writing better stories for characters whose trauma is handled poorly, and I feel like the writers’ treatment of Azula is uncomfortably fetishistic. Fuck the canon, Azula will heal on her own.
> 
> I should clarify a few things: 1. This does not follow continuity strictly, and almost certainly will not fall in line with LoK. It picks up at the end of the show and does not follow the comics. Any changes will either be explained in text or addressed in an author’s note. 2. Ursa is characterized the way she is because she is not Ursa. She is Azula’s hallucination, who is also representative of her own inner voice/insecurities. (Azula’s experiences with psychosis are being vetted by a person with psychosis who also disliked the depiction we got in canon.)
> 
> This fic will be updated intermittently as the author and editor are working on another project, but we hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Without a map to guide her, Azula elected to stay near the coast, walking parallel to the woods to her left. She could see snow-capped mountains in the distance, looming over the horizon; despite being present for numerous meetings about colonization efforts in the Earth Kingdom, she saw nothing that gave her the faintest idea where she had washed up. Her best guess could be somewhere along the western coast of the kingdom.

Occasionally the leaves would rustle or an animal would growl from within the cover of the trees, causing her to jump, expecting to be attacked again. On edge, she couldn’t appreciate the beauty of the expansive forests nearby, nor the clear ocean gently lapping at the shoreline. Azula spent the first half of her trek entertaining every single thought of revenge that crossed her mind. Eventually, she had to acknowledge the figure that hovered in her peripheral. Ursa smiled warmly at her daughter, though her voice betrayed her. “Truly an unfortunate end, starving to death in the wilderness.”

Trying to ignore her mother’s attempt at undermining her confidence, Azula kept her eyes fixed forward and muttered, “Several hours without food isn’t going to kill me. I’ve had worse.”

“Always such a stubborn girl,” Ursa said, clearly exasperated, so much so she lost her dignified posture for a split second. Her even tone returned and maliciously she said, “Azula. Why don’t you rest? You are exhausted.”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Azula asked, knowing full well that stopping would mean admitting defeat. “I should just roll over and die, right?”

Ursa paused, letting Azula mentally fill in the unsaid ‘yes’. Her mother spoke again in a harsher tone, “Doing so might fix a few things.”

Azula made a fist, but restrained herself from lashing out. “Sorry, Brother will never be that lucky. He missed his chance to kill me.”

“Oh, don’t tell me…” Ursa sighed, sounding genuinely annoyed. She started to slow her pace, slipping behind her daughter.

“Come now, mother. I know he was your precious child, but surely you cannot be so blind,” Azula said curtly, feeling as thought it was more than obvious what transpired. “Assassinating his sister in prison reflects poorly on the throne. Too uncivilized. But if I were to disappear conveniently… Well, that works out nicely for him.”

Ursa massaged her temple, finding the never-ending string of conspiracy theories produced by her daughter too exhausting to humor. “Dear, are you sure that is not just exactly what you would do to him?” Her head twisted in an unnatural motion, but was just slightly removed from Azula’s view. “Honestly, dear. Zuko rules with his heart. His love extends to all his subjects, no less his family.”

Azula nearly gagged at the suggestion and shook her head. “Sure he does.” She waved her hand dismissively and continued, “Besides, regardless of what you might think, ruling with one’s heart is a surefire way to end up writhing on the throne room floor, poisoned.”

“If you say so, dear. I guess only time will tell,” Ursa said, sounding wholly unconvinced.

Azula clicked her tongue and opted to remain silent. Instead, she quickened her pace, trying to outpace her mother’s apparition. A futile task, as Ursa continued to keep up just within the corner of her vision.

Fortunately, Azula saw a fishing boat sailing by and paused to watch two men aboard adjust the sail in order to better catch the wind. “A dingy like that can’t be far from a dock,” she thought aloud. She followed its course and was relieved to watch as it turned, slowly gliding in next to a wooden pier. She chose to linger, giving time for the two fishermen to secure their boat and to pick up the cages containing their haul.

The two men seemed in high spirits, laughing merrily as they headed down a winding dirt road that led into the forest toward the mountains. Azula approached and stood on the pier, staring at the boat thoughtfully. Her rage told her to steal it, but she decided against being so reckless. While she was confident she could handle the treacherous ocean, arriving without being able to bend would only result in an untimely demise. So she scoffed to herself and instead followed the fresh tracks on the road.

-

Nestled in the rocky terrain was a quaint village. The forest thinned where people had claimed the land, opening to bare hills with plots of farmland between them. The farms were strewn atop a rocky plateau, and planted in the uniform fields were rows of cabbages. The reminder of food caused her stomach to growl. She quickly walked over to the nearest farm, eyeing the nearby fields to ensure no one would catch her. With the coast clear, she hopped the rickety wooden fence into the soft soil.

Kneeling, she tore a head of cabbage free and sat cross-legged in the dirt. Without hesitation, she bit into the leafy vegetable. She grimaced as she chewed; it was tough and bland uncooked, and she almost had the nerve to spit it out before realizing she couldn’t remember the last time she ate. She continued to chew slowly. Once the initial rush died, she ate more carefully, peeling leaves from the cabbage and folding them up before biting into them. Once she had gotten through all but the core, she tossed it aside. It had helped the gnawing hunger and thirst just a little. She peered around her, suspicious of the silence. “Nothing to say, Mother?”

The only response was the rustle of leaves. She shrugged, grateful to be left alone. She tore up another head and stood up. She peeled off the leaves and chewed on them as she made her way into the village proper. Past a steep bend in the road that curved around the hills were several buildings, topped by green ceramic tiles and fenced in behind a smooth stone wall. Curious, Azula paused to survey the buildings, ultimately concluding the entire fortification was shockingly primitive. Large cracks that lined the stonework could be easily breached, if sufficient pressure was applied.

Her attention was drawn by another sound, a distant rumble that caused her to turn. Driving along the dirt road, a tundra tank came into view, its spiky tracks kicking up earth as it passed. A man in a green tunic and black goggles was sitting on top of it cross-legged. Azula wondered how a bunch of peasants managed to take control of a Fire Nation tank. Trailing behind it were two metal chains affixed to a wooden cart, piled high with bricks. Azula watched the tank vanish around the corner, almost in disbelief. But she did not dwell on it long, opting to continue her path and follow the stolen tank further into town.

As she made it to the village proper, she first noticed several men and women working to reinforce a sagging wooden column that had suffered fire damage. The lead man, black hair tied in a thin ponytail, raised his fist to produce a square brick of earth, pressing it against the column. The rest, she presumed non-benders, quickly moved to attach some metal wires as a temporary brace.

Azula quickly grew bored watching their mundane task, instead scanning her eyes over the area. She was annoyed to find there were no signs or guideposts anywhere. Fortunately, she spotted a young man laying down near the building across from the workers. He had a rice hat pulled over his face, clearly asleep.

She approached, but was surprised when he jerked into a sitting position and hastily fixed his hat. “You guys are doing a great job!” he exclaimed, only to to realize she was a stranger. He rubbed his eyes and squinted at her. “Who are you? A forest spirit?” His green overcoat was caked in a layer of dirt, suggesting he had been slacking on the job for quite a while.

Azula was taken aback by the idiotic question, but assumed it was nothing more than the ignorance of a Earth Kingdom peasant. She replied slowly, almost condescending, “Considering you can see me… I think it is a safe assumption that I am not.”

The boy seemed unfazed by her tone; he merely responded, “Well, that is certainly a relief,” and jumped to his feet. Underneath the hat flowed a head of dark chestnut hair, which stopped just at his shoulders. “Better to be safe. I swear, you knock over one tree and suddenly…” he trailed off, recognizing she was clearly in a rather haggard state. He pointed to her hair and said, “You, uh… got something.”

Azula opened her mouth to tell him to show a little respect, but caught herself. She reached a hand up curiously, and caught a wet piece of seaweed. “Ugh…” She scowled as she yanked it out as it occurred to her she may never be able to recover from such a disgrace.

The boy was uncertain what to make of her appearance. After an awkward staring contest, he broke the silence. “So, did you shipwreck or something, stranger?”

“Let us stick with… something, in this case,” Azula answered vaguely, her intimidating demeanor enough for him to take a step back. She flicked a finger in his direction, “Tell me, is there a healer in this depressing excuse for a town?”

“Ah, it’s not really that depressing. In the winter, the mold is edible at least,” The boy said, used to outsiders taking issue with his village. He rubbed his stomach. “I like the security of knowing I will never starve.” She made a face, finding every fiber of her being revolted by his suggestion. He started to laugh, clearly enjoying her reaction. “Just messing with you. Yeah, of course we have a healer. We are civilized folk around here.” The sound of footsteps caused his jovial attitude to vanish and he fell silent, leaning slightly to the right and looking passed her.

Azula turned, wondering what he had saw, and also froze. Two men draped in white and gold robes, identical to those of the swordsman who attacked her ship, had entered the enclave. They took slow, meditative steps as they walked together, speaking in hushed tones. Only one appeared armed, a sword hanging loosely from his belt; the other kept his hands together as he walked.

As they passed by Azula and the village boy, the armed man smiled warmly, bowing his head respectfully. “Blessings upon you, brother… sister.” His voice was reserved, fitting for a monk. It was all he said before continuing on his path.

Azula hadn’t noticed she’d clenched her fist until she unfurled her fingers. She picked up on the poisonous venom lurking behind the monk’s veneer of civility. She relaxed slightly, but still held her brows furrowed as she turned back to the boy. “Where is the funeral?”

The boy seemed surprised she didn’t know, but chocked it up to her fish-out-of-water appearance. He explained, “Haven’t you heard? They are mourning the death of our kingdom.” He didn’t elaborate, instead clapping both hands together, his obnoxiously cheery demeanor returning. “As for a healer, you are in luck. My ma is the local bonesetter.”

Finally, the universe had decided to give her a break. Azula forced a polite tone, “Would you please take me to her?”

He held out both hands. “Absolutely. Helping the destitute is what we do.” She suppressed some choice words, not appreciating his language. He interrupted her thought and slapped his forehead, as if just remembering, “Sorry. My name is Lei.”

Thinking quickly, Azula maintained her stoic expression and said, “Call me… Ran.”

“Okay then, Ran. It is nice to meet you,” Lei said, always interested in meeting new people, even one as weird as her. He beckoned for her to follow. “My place is a bit of a trek. Ma prefers the quiet of the forest.”

“Right behind you,” Azula said, understandably wary that he might be trying to rob her or worse. Despite her exhaustion, she was prepared to fight if needed.

They left in the opposite direction from where she had entered, descending back down toward the wooded area. The sun was bright above them, early fall daylight accompanied by a gentle breeze. Her guide remained quiet for some time, and Azula could just barely hear the chatter of village life turn into the sounds of the forest. Lei’s curiosity soon got the better of him, though, and he interrupted the quiet to ask, “So, Ran, where are you from? You don’t look like the type who normally passes through.”

“The east,” Azula answered cryptically, watching a peasant pulling a cart pass them and heading back into the village.

“My east or your east?” Lei asked, confused as he pointed in two entirely different directions.

“You do realize there is only one east, don’t you?” Azula said rather harshly, as she was in no mood for jokes. “And it is neither of those directions.”

Lei put a hand on his chin, unbothered by her response. “Hmmm.” His brow furrowed and he snapped his fingers. “Ba Sing Se, then.”

“Sure,” Azula said, more than willing to let him fill in the blank for her. She kept her eyes fixed forward, hoping he would grow bored with his questioning.

Lei looked impressed and whistled obnoxiously. “You really have come a long way.” There was an excited gleam in his eye. “Always wanted to visit the big city. Sounds like a sight to behold.”

Azula caught herself before saying the city wasn’t all that impressive, but maintained her faux veneer of politeness, faking a smile. “The wall is quite the accomplishment of engineering.”

Finally noticing her discomfort, Lei decided to suppress his curiosity and said, “Y’know, I’m sorry. Where you’re from is none of my business.” They continued in silence, reaching a fork in the road. Lei veered to the right, heading back toward the mountains. Eventually, just as Azula was starting to get frustrated by all the walking she’d done today, the two of them reach a grassy clearing where a small wooden hut sat, similar in construction to the ones in the village.

Its reddish wooden walls were stained with age and the roof of tiles had faded brown. What she had at first assumed to be multi-color tiles from a distance turned into a variety of masks—all frozen in expressions of terror, despair, glee. They were nailed to the walls of the house, and a few lined stakes that had been erected near the door. Something about their uncanny, twisted expressions unnerved her. “Unique… decorations.”

“Very effective in warding off malevolent spirits. Ma prefers to air on the side of caution,” Lei explained, taking a few exaggerated steps until they reached the porch where he stopped. He grinned and looked over his shoulder. “Though they have also helped scare off any nosy soldiers.” He pulled one from the wall—the expression of a crying man painted green and red, and held it to his face. He reached down dramatically, grabbing a metal bucket and tapped it with his knuckle. “Oooooh,” he moaned eerily, a mimicry of a spirit’s cry. The short-lived performance caused him to bust out laughing.

Azula stood there, completely at a lost by the display. Was she suppose to find it funny? She crossed her arms. “Are you being serious?”

“I try to be,” Lei said, returning the bucket and mask. He removed his hat and held it with both hands. “Trust me. At night, you would run too.”

“I will take your word for it,” Azula said dryly, wondering what kind of crackpots she was trusting to restore her bending. “And I assume that does the same?” She pointed to the featherless body of a bird hanging from the roof tiles.

“Huh?” Lei turned and shook his head. “Nah. That’s just dinner.” He ignored her grimace of disgust and opened the door, shouting, “Ma! You have a customer!”

Azula heard rustling and leaned against the support post, waiting patiently for the bonesetter. Lei just smiled innocently as a middle-aged woman emerged from the house. Her hair was in a tight bun, same brunette hue as her son’s, though her skin was several shades paler. She had a slight hunch, but smiled warmly. “Wonderful. The bones predicated visitors today.”

Lei held out both his hands and said, “This is Ran.” He leaned over to his mother, whispering. “Though it is possible she is a spirit.”

Azula pursed her lips, finding his humor droll. “Need I remind you, you can still see me?”

“Don’t mind him, Ran,” Lei’s mother said as she shuffled over, still wearing a gentle smile. She squinted, holding out a hand, “Now… Let me have a look.” The old woman fell silent; it was very unlike the endless questions and examination herbalists in the Fire Nation employed. The bonesetter simply stood there, staring deeply into the girl’s soul. Azula felt her skin begin to itch under the intense gaze, but met the woman’s stare with a stubborn, matching look. The bonesetter finally broke the silence, reaching up once before retracting her hand. She finally settled her palm against Azula’s arm. “Turn for me,” she ordered, and Azula complied, impatiently tapping her foot. Lei’s mother nodded, satisfied. “Okay. That is good enough.”

“Is that all? Can you help me?” Azula asked impatiently, her mask briefly slipping beneath her anxiety. The last thing she wanted to hear was that nothing could be done for her, and she’d be left to find someone else. It could be weeks, months even—

Lei’s mother put her hands together, interrupting her thoughts. “Dear girl. I have been practicing a very long time. Your case is quite severe, but nothing I cannot handle.” She moved her head to one side thoughtfully. “Boy, did you pick up the ingredients I asked for?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lei said, tugging a pouch out from under his overcoat.

He handed it over to his mother, who opened it and nodded. “Very good. Then there is no problem.” She looked over at Azula, “But first, I must ask you to take a bath.”

“Ugh. Do I have to?’ Azula’s mature attitude dissipated, replaced with childish indignation.

“Yes. You smell like crabfish,” Lei’s mother said sternly. “And I will not have you tracking mud into my home.” She looked over at her son. “Fetch some fresh water, then prepare our customer a change of clothes.”

“On it!” Lei said, giving a lighthearted salute before heading behind the house.

“Please wait here until he returns,” His mother said, going back inside the house without another word.

Azula frowned and plopped down on the porch, leaning against one of the supports. She still wasn’t keen on accepting aid from these strangers. “Surely I don’t smell,” she muttered to herself, before hesitantly pressing her nose against her sleeve. The foul smell of decaying seaweed and saltwater clung to her clothes, causing her to jerk back. Maybe she did stink. She decided to settle back and be patient, at least for the time being. She let out a sigh and closed her eyes, appreciating the warmth of sunlight on her skin for the first time in weeks, as she listened carefully to the sounds of the surrounding forest.

After several minutes passed, the quiet sound of footsteps jerked her out of her solitude. Lei hopped up onto the porch and said, “The water’s ready. One second.” Azula watched him walk inside, then pop out after a few moments carrying a folded dark brown tunic and black pants. “Here. These should fit.”

She stood, taking the clothes. An uncomfortable thought occurred to her. Azula paused and said, “Hypothetically… What happens if I do not have any money?”

Her concern was obvious, but Lei shrugged nonchalantly. “You wouldn’t be the first.” He waved his hand and added, “Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

Azula squinted at him, studying Lei’s soft face. He held no tension in his square jaw, and his dark brown eyes did not conceal any questionable intent. Yet, she was certain there was a catch. Unconvinced, she crossed her arms. “You must think I was born yesterday. Nothing is ever truly free.”

Lei wasn’t really sure what she wanted to hear. He merely shrugged again. “I guess you’re just gonna have to ask Ma.” When she continued to stare at him unblinkingly, he added, “Or leave. But, come on, you made it this far. Don’t be getting cold feet.”

“Who said anything about being scared?” Azula replied harshly, shoving him as she entered the house. She turned back, pointing. “But I don’t like owing people. I am commanding you to come up with something for me to do in return.”

“Oh-hoh! Commanding me, are you…?” Lei chuckled at her novel attempt to sound threatening. He smirked, “Don’t worry, princess… I will find something appropriately mundane for you to help with to repay your debt.”

“Good,” Azula said with a nod, certain that she had managed to haggle a more favorable arrangement. She left Lei, who was wearing a stupid grin on his face and wondering what she was so concerned about in the first place.

-

Lei stood on the porch, hands on his hips as he studied the bird carcass hanging from the roof. He sighed before reaching up and untangling it from the rope. He took it with him to the kitchen, tossing the bird onto a cutting board and getting to work on prepping it.

His mother was seated on the floor in the next room, consulting an assortment of bones laid out across the wooden table in front of her. He carefully navigated around a thick piece of gristle with a knife and said casually, “More Harmonists passed through.”

Intensely focused on her work, his mother said absentmindedly, “No surprise there… Zealots are never truly satisfied.” She gathered the bones into a corner before scattering them again. She studied the spread and muttered, “The seeds of strife planted by the war are beginning to bare fruit. The future is just as murky as the past.”

Lei paused, reaching over to grab a small wooden container. He slid it over, and popped its lid off, revealing an orange powder. He took a pinch, sprinkling the good pieces of meat with it. “Should we be worried?”

“Hard to say. I did mention visitors, didn’t I?” His mother responded, her finger hovering over the bones as she moved between them. Her black eyes were fixated on a thin, curved portion of bone. “Whatever is coming, the spirits are behaving abnormally. Something has made them wary of the present state of affairs.”

“Huh. I thought the spirits rarely cared about people,” Lei commented, some of her teachings having rubbed off on him by proxy. He took a long step right, opening a basket, inside which was a mound of white rice.

As he ran his finger through the grains, checking for bugs, his mother responded, “They don’t. Or at least, they shouldn’t… Unless, of course…” She trailed off, placing a hand on her knee and changed the subject, “Where did you meet Ran?”

Lei paused from rinsing the rice and looked up, “She kind of just wandered into town.”

“Hmph.” His mother grunted and tapped her fingers on the table. “Whoever she is, that girl is dangerous. Her eyes betray a violent mind.”

Lei was surprised to hear his mom speak negatively about someone. Once the rice was strained and transferred safely to a pot, he said, “Ah, come on, Ma. She seemed fine. A little formal, sure, but hardly some kind of monster.”

His mother’s face was unreadable as she said, “If you think so, then go ahead and prepare her a bowl as well.” With that, she got up and shuffled away. “I am going to get ready. Tell Ran I am in the back.”

Lei nodded and struck a piece of flint, creating a spark. He continued to cook, boiling the rice while humming to himself. Hearing the door slowly open, he popped his head out of the kitchen. Sure enough, standing at the edge of the doorway was Azula wearing the tunic she had been provided. The dark earthy tones fit her stoic expression, although she seemed a little uncomfortable with the short pants, fidgeting as she tugged on them. Seeing this, he asked, “Fit alright?”

Azula shifted, running a hand across her arm. “Yeah… It’s fine.” Truthfully, she was impressed by the quality of the peasant garb. The fabric was softer than some of the well-pressed clothes she wore back in the palace.

She lingered at the edge of the doorway, and realizing this, Lei gestured for her to enter. “Well, come on. Ma is waiting in the back.”

-

Azula found Lei’s mother holding a cup of tea, seated next to a dark green mat on the floor. Next to the middle-aged woman was a small box of thin needles and an obsidian bowl of water. She waited for her patient to sit across from her before saying, “Please, if you would. Drink this. Helps calm the nerves.”

Gingerly taking the cup, Azula studied its contents. The brown liquid smelled of dirt, but otherwise, nothing seemed wrong with it. Warily she casted a glance at the bonesetter. “What is it?”

“Trade secret,” Lei’s mother answered, giving a reassuring smile. “It’s not poison. I generally try to avoid killing my clients.”

Azula ignored the paranoid voice in her head and downed the drink. She coughed as both ginger and what she was certain was ash splashed her tongue. The whole concoction left a grittiness on her teeth, and she was about to comment on just how disgusting it was when a soothing warmth settled at the base of her stomach. The tension in both her jaw and shoulders started to fade, and for the first time in the last few days, Azula almost felt herself relax.

She didn’t need to be told what to do next. Wordlessly, she laid down on the mat, her head toward the older woman. Mumbling to herself, Lei’s mother began to deftly place the acupuncture needles across her patient's body. The last thing Azula remembered before drifting off to sleep was a small ball of water being formed around her right arm.

-

Unfortunately for her, a dreamless sleep was out of the question. Azula found herself sitting in the throne room back in the Royal Palace. The air was thick and heavy with acrid smoke, stark flames slowly creeping toward her. The dark wall of smoke obscured the glowing orange of the fire. She coughed, the air burning in her lungs as she tried to gasp. As she attempted to stand up, to move away, a cold hand shoved her shoulder. Ursa’s voice was close enough to her right ear that she could feel her breath. “Tell me, dear. What will you do once your bending is restored?”

The fire crackled, and a piece of the roof came tumbling down, exploding in the vibrant blaze. Azula flinched, surprised by the noise. She grinned maliciously. “I was thinking I should start by torching this charming little house.”

“Your father would be proud,” Ursa’s voice moved to her left, and Azula tried to pull her head away, unsure what her mother was trying to imply. Snickering, Ursa slid backwards into the smoky shadows. From the darkness, she whispered, “I am sure killing defenseless peasants will be a worthwhile way to gauge your abilities.”

“Mother, please, just once,” Azula said exasperated as she rolled her eyes. “Could you at least pretend to give me some credit? I wasn’t being serious. These people are not worth my time.” A gust of wind blew through, aggravating the already uncontrollable fire, causing it to spread onto the throne in front of her. She watched, appreciating the beauty as it burned.

“Oh?” Ursa sounded taken aback. Then with a guarded tone, she repeated her earlier question. “I’d like to hear the truth. What will you do once your bending is restored?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Azula said, coming to her feet, finally able to stand. Hunching over, she held out both arms and declared, “I will return home! And show Zuzu the consequences for casting me out like some unloved mongrel!” With that, two blue balls of fire appeared just above her palms. At first she stared at her hands, shocked to see them. Excitedly, she exclaimed, “Mom, do you see? I can bend again!”

At first, there was no response, and she looked around wearing a gleeful smile. However, it soon faded when Ursa yawned and said disinterestedly, “Yes, yes dear. That is very nice, be sure to tell your father.”

Azula felt an uncomfortable knot form in her chest, and a second blast of wind more powerful than the first blew through the room, extinguishing both her blue fire along with the once-blazing inferno. She was standing in a dark void, the smell of ash and smoke stinging her eyes. Despite the emptiness, she could still feel eyes on her. Panicked by the sudden silence, she cried out, “M-Mom?”

-

Seated outside, Lei was leaning against the side of his house, eating a bowl of rice and watching the sunset. The weather was calm, cool air combing the trees. Though, he was a little disappointed since the rice was overcooked, but that bothered him little.

He quickly scarfed down the food with his chopsticks, chewing noisily, and let out a satisfied sigh when he finished. He set the bowl down and stretched his arms over his head, resting back. Rustling grass disturbed his peace, and he peeked his eyes open, frowning as he saw five men in white emerge from the woods walking towards the house.

Their faces indicated they were not making a courtesy call. Lei muttered, “Ah, crap.” He stood, taking a minute to adjust his hat and then opened the door to say, “Uh… Ma. I think those visitors are here.”

His mother stepped outside, wearing a grave expression on her face and watching the men approach. They stopped abruptly, splitting into pairs of two with the fifth man standing in the center. His bald head glinted in the remaining sunlight. While he could tell the head monk was unarmed, Lei knew better than to assume this would be a peaceful encounter. The man smiled, both hands concealed behind his back, and calmly announced, “Madame Linh, I am sorry to disturb you on this lovely afternoon, but I speak on behalf of the Heavenly Mistress.”

Lei’s mother bristled at his condescending tone. She stepped down onto the ground, staring at him. “Zhen… Does she intend to bring more trouble to my doorstep?” She watched Lei of the corner of her eye, making sure he wasn’t going to do anything rash. “I already donated tribute for her blessings. Don’t tell me the spirits demand greater sacrifice…”

The implication that he was extorting her caused Zhen to frown. Maintaining his rigid posture and civil demeanor he said, “You wound me, my good woman. We are not warlords… No. In this case, we need something else from you.”

Lei scoffed, rolling his eyes as he leaned one of the support posts of the house. “As always…” He noticed several gold beads hanging around the man’s neck.

Linh gestured with her hand, cutting him off. She jerked her head at the monks, “Speak.”

Zhen’s serene face made him difficult to read and he said, “We have been conducting the rites of purification near Gaipan. It’s been a difficult task to calm the spirits… As I am sure you are aware, those arrogant colonists held little regard for the boundaries of nature.” He paused, studying their faces. “Unfortunately, it was brought to my attention that not all those responsible for the forest's disarray have faced judgment. In this instance… a family.”

There was a bloodthirsty gleam lurking just behind his green eyes; Linh already could tell the monks had been thorough in their search, if they were in front of her now. Politely, she said, “I do not keep records of my patients. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Middle aged man, probably in his 50’s. Dark hair and dark eyes,” Zhen started to recount from memory the description of the colonists they were hunting. “A woman, only a few years younger, greying hair. Two children, boy and girl.” His condescending smile returned. “Smelled like Fire Nation dogs…”

Lei knew immediately who they were talking about, remembering the frightened family that had appeared on their doorstep one night. His mother, on the other hand, had a much better poker face. “I treat everyone who asks for help. I run a business. It’s hard to remember faces.”

“Try a little harder,” Zhen said, words betraying the peaceful tone. The rest of his men positioned themselves, with their hands rested above the weapons on their hips. “Should you cooperate, when Hua reaches this pitiful village, he will reward you generously.”

Linh did not recognize the name, but assumed Hua was whoever the monk answered to. “Riches only serve to distract one from the Earth. I have no desire for such things.” She could tell he wasn’t going to just leave. She rested a hand on her chin. “Though I believe they were going to try and pay a captain to take them back home.”

A lie, one that Zhen saw through immediately, thanks to his former profession. “Ah… Such a pity. My own countrymen would try to protect those that, not even a month ago, drove us from our hallowed lands.” He glanced back at his men and ordered, “Kill them.” Two of the monks drew their swords and advanced as he started to preach. “By the orders of Heavenly Mistress Zhi! All those who aid the colonizers must be put to the sword!”

Acting quickly, Lei jumped down, sliding in front of his mother. He waved his arm up in a wide, swiping motion, drawing a muddy slurry from the earth beneath their feet. The mixture was propelled toward the advancing monks.

Both men split apart, but Lei moved with them, using both hands to bring it crashing into the left-most attacker, who was flung into the dirt with a heavy thud. Fearful, Lei readjusted his footing to produce another barrier and shouted, “This is absurd! We have no quarrel!”

Seeing this, Zhen took an offensive stance himself and pointed a gloved right fist toward the boy. Intrigued he said, “Interesting form… for an earthbender.” He fired the rock gauntlet straight at Lei’s throat, who responded in kind by using his barrier to engulf the projectile. The monk leader changed his footing and continued, “But we do have a quarrel, young man. I, too, used to believe life as it was is acceptable. But our wise Mistress convinced me of my error.” He continued to advance on Lei, firing gloves and ensuring the boy never was able to rally. “Our Kingdom is sacred! Traitors and colonists alike must be forced into the sea. Thus is Heaven’s decree.”

-

Still deep within the confines of her unconscious, Azula found herself immersed in the pitch black. She tried to push herself forward, but the inky darkness held her in place, shoving her back for every attempt to move. She stilled herself, gently moving her hand up; to her surprise, she lost sight of her hand entirely. She tried focusing her energy on producing another ball of fire, hoping to light her way. No fire appeared, much to her anger, as a frustrated lump formed in her throat.

Without warning, a blue light flickered to life some distance in front of her. She glanced around warily, sure that she could feel someone watching her from the edge of the shadows. She wondered if it was her mother returning to torment her again, but this felt different. This presence was overwhelming, surrounding her, the weight of its gaze pressing on her.

She pushed forward once more. It seemed where the light shone, the shadows parted, though she nearly stumbled as she’d expected resistance. She carefully crept forward towards the light, pausing as she swore she could hear rustling behind her.

She made it to the blue fireball and stood next to it, feeling the head radiating off of it. The presence shadowing her was standing right behind her now. Azula froze, unwilling to turn around; the thought crossed her mind that this was some kind of test, that she was meant to prove she wasn’t a coward, like her brother. She clenched her fist and exhaled, then plunged her hand into the fire.

The flame eagerly spread up her arm, reaching her neck in only a few seconds. She was relieved to find it didn’t hurt at all; instead she was left with a reassuring, cleansing feeling. Once her entire body had been engulfed in blue, she decided to sit down, adopting a meditative position. Azula took a deep breath, confident she could maintain her focus.

A short pause later, an unimpressed, judgmental grunt shattered her confidence. The fire wavered momentarily, flashing orange and sending a wave of searing pain to shoot through her arm. The air rushed from her lungs, and she bit her tongue to keep from yelling. She wanted to regain her self-control, but the moment had been lost, the orange light returning along with the intensifying agony.

She tried to stand, intending to flee into the darkness, to find some means of escape, but the powerful force willed her to remind still. It demanded she burn to death, rather than flee, and Azula struggled desperately. She squeezed her eyes shut, begging to be allowed to stop.

-

Azula jolted awake, nearly flinging herself from the bed mat. She sat there for a moment, clinging to her pant leg while trying to catch her breath. She looked around, relieved to find she was back in the bonesetter’s house. The room itself was just as it had been; for a moment, she wondered how long she’d been sleeping. Not that it mattered.

Curiously, she held out her hand. She stared at her shaking palm, willing it to still. A blue flame came to life, sputtering, before settling to a rhythmic, warm pulse. She glanced around the room once more, slower this time, but decided to stick to her claim that she wasn’t serious about torching her benefactor’s home.

She stared into the small flame in her hands, mesmerized by the fire’s beauty. The sound of yelling outside interrupted her, and she extinguished the flame and tilted her head to listen. Another shout, followed by a loud crash. She leapt to her feet, creeping to the door to slide it open a crack. Just as she peeked out to see what was going on, a body crashed through the front wall of the house in a hail of splinters. It thudded against the ground, sliding a few feet towards her in a trail of red.

Azula waited, expecting more, but nothing came. She shuffled over to the motionless man. He was adorned in the same dress as the monks they’d encountered earlier. “Hm. Interesting,” she muttered, poking his cheek. Unnecessary, it seemed, as he was clearly dead. She smiled. “Serves you right.”

Hearing more noise outside of the house, she looked up to see more men in white through the hole left by their comrade. She rolled her neck with a satisfying pop, giddy at a chance to use her bending.

-

Having only briefly trained with his father, Lei’s technique was rough and completely outmatched by his better-trained opponent. Zhen was calculating and attentive, meeting Lei’s moves with ease. He could hardly keep up, eventually tripping over his own feet and slamming against a pillar next to him. He gasped, doubling over, choking on his breath. Zhen stopped, clasping his hands behind him. “Commendable effort, young man. It’s a shame you are unwilling to see the vision of our Heavenly Mistress.”

Lei struggled back to his feet, but remained hunched over, clutching his side. “What can I say? I prefer my vision of being alive.”

Zhen did not respond; instead, he stomped his foot, intending to strike down the boy in one move. But the chance never came. He was interrupted by a deafening bolt of lighting that snaked out from the house, piercing the center of his back in a blinding flash. The sickening crack echoed before his body fell to the ground, smoke drifting off his clothes as the smell of burnt flesh and ozone hung in the air.

Lei fell back from the force, staring at the house. Azula appeared on the porch, breathing heavily. Her right and two fingers were stretched in the direction of the convulsing Zhen. Lei glanced down at the man. His skin was purple and blistered, robes burned to reveal a blackened patch of skin where the bolt must’ve entered his body. The body twitched again, but Lei wondered if he was even alive. He peeked back up at the girl, meeting her eye with a gulp and tentative wave. “Hey, Ran.”

She stared at him for a moment before turning her attention to the other monks remaining. They whipped their head around at the sound, having paused upon seeing their opponent was a teenage girl. The monks looked at each other before advancing on her, unafraid. Overconfident as ever, Azula’s wide grin didn’t betray just how much she’d overexerted herself to produce her last strike. For a brief moment she swayed, vision blurring, but she managed to focus her pent up rage to steady herself. She widened her stance, two fingers pointed at her opponents. With a sneer, she said, “Oh, you pathetic peasants think you can challenge _me?_ Don’t make me laugh.”

Her condescension didn’t faze the fanatical monks. They approached her, the monk on the left raising his arm to attack. Azula leapt into the air with a spin, as she kicked a horizontal arc of blue fire at the spearman on the right. Taking advantage of her distraction, Lei hastily rushed over to his mother to make sure she was alright.

Chaos ensued as Azula tried to avoid being skewered by the enemies in white. The first spearman met his end when he lunged forward and she caught the pole just below its head. “…Surely you can do better,” she laughed, producing a dramatic blast of fire from her two fingers. He flew back a few feet, collapsing to the ground with a dull thud, flames still clinging to his robes and dancing around his skin.

Taking advantage of the momentum, Azula spun on her heel and sent another arching flame towards the swordsman, flame wrapping around him like a whip. The man collapsed to the ground with a howl, heat lapping at his form. The girl turned towards the last monk, only to see him abandon his weapon and attempt to flee, scrambling away in fear. Perhaps some devotion had its limits.

Mercilessly, Azula laughed once, sharp, before expelling a vibrant stream of blue fire from her mouth, catching the fleeing man before he could escape. He collapsed with a scream, and the monks struggled for several moments before stilling. Bored at the lack of challenge, she dusted off her shoulder, satisfied with having regained control over her body. She stood, took a deep breath, and centered herself among the remains of the carnage. An intrusive, destructive thought crossed her mind, pushing her to simply torch the area, house and all. Her eyes darted over to Lei and Linh, who stared at her with the kind of fear reserved for dangerous animals, sickly reinforcing her own inflated pride. But she was smarter than that. She suppressed the bubbling wave of rage, recognizing that her bending had been returned to her thanks to their intervention. She straightened herself, trying to calm the manic fluttering of her heart.

The air was uncomfortably strained as the three stared at each other with varying degrees of unease. Finally, Lei broke the tension, helping his mother stand. Shakily, he said, “I… take it this means you aren’t from Ba Sing Se.”

“You are smarter than I thought,” Azula said arrogantly, avoiding their gaze as she walked past them. She knelt down next to the blistered remains of Zhen, holding her breath to the scent of burning hair. The girl searched through his pockets, curious if he was carrying that could be of use to her.

Linh looked at the destruction around her home, the ripped up Earth and charred corpses. Eventually, she shook her dead, dismayed. “What a mess.” Noticing a black and blue bruise forming on her son’s throat, she muttered worriedly, “Oh, dear. Let me get poultice.”

“Ah, come on, Ma. I’m fine,” Lei said, flinching when she barely grazed the skin around his neck. He stuck a finger out toward the kneeling girl, whose back was to them both. “Are we just going to pretend we didn’t just see that?” Azula paused, curious about how an ignorant peasant might assess her abilities. Though his reaction, or moreso his excitement, was unexpected. “That was incredible, Ran! Terrifying, but incredible! You absolutely must spar with me,” he declared.

Azula grimaced, almost disgusted by the suggestion that she would ever consider stooping to his level. She said in a forcibly polite tone, “No thanks.”

He looked a little disappointed by her answer, but Linh scolded him, “Boy, is that how you thank the person who just saved your life?” She turned and spoke to Azula, “Ran, you have our utmost gratitude.”

Azula stayed quiet at first, carefully considering her response. Being thanked for intervening was new territory for her. After an incredibly awkward moment of silence, she finally said, “Think nothing of it. Just do me a favor.” She stopped to look back at the two peasants, “Keep quiet about what you saw.”

Lei nodded and Linh smiled warmly. “Our secret,” She replied. Squeezing her son’s shoulder, she muttered, “Come now. Let me get a poultice for that bruise.”

Lei poked his own neck and flinched. “Who would have thought getting hit in the throat with a rock would hurt so much?” He limped past Azula, taking a seat on the porch and tugging off his rice hat. He tossed it to his feet and glanced over at one of the corpses. “Guess it beats having my skin fried.” The lifeless remains of a face staring back at him, and the nauseating smell that lingered, caused the boy to shudder.

“There are far, far worse ways to go,” Azula said, only half paying attention as she continued to search through the monk’s robe. She deftly pocketed some of his surviving gold jewelry, planning to sell it later. Her hand brushed against a scroll nestled close to the dead man’s breast. Most of the document crumbled as she carefully unfurled it, but a few words were still legible on the top of the page: _The Path of Lasting Peace._

She stood up, squinting at the remains of the manifesto, realizing she probably should have shown more restraint. An interrogation would have helped immensely, though it was too late now. Azula walked over to Lei and waved the paper at him. “Does this mean anything to you?”

Lei squinted, noticing a faint insignia of a sun and looked at her, puzzled. “So, you’re not a colonist either, then? I figured everyone around here knew about the Harmonists.” He made an O-shape with his mouth, remembering she had asked about the two monks in the village. “Ah!”

“I am no one,” Azula said, intending to cut off any further prying into her affairs. Though the statement raised objections from her own internal monologue. She was _supposed_ to be the next Fire Lord, a fact that had to count for something. She waved the pages a second time, causing some ash to fall to the ground and repeated, “Harmonists…” The term did not mean anything to her. What exactly had happened in the short time she was locked away?

“No one? I thought your name was Ran,” Lei said jokingly, and was clearly proud of himself. He snorted crudely when she shot him an annoyed look.

“It’s Ran,” Azula said, her eyebrow twitching noticeably. Deathly serious, she tried a different tact. “I am really not in the mood for jokes. Just tell me why these men attacked you.”

“Hey, relax. No reason to burn anything else,” Lei said, holding out his hand in an attempt to ease her. He stayed silent, trying to think of how to describe them. Finally, he settled on, “Hard to say who they are, truthfully… The Harmonists only started popping up near the end of the occupation.” He gestured toward the bodies. “They believe in all sorts of weird stuff about how humanity no longer listens to the spirits or respects nature.” He paused briefly, “Though what has made them popular is their demand that the Fire Nation remove every single one of its colonists from our Kingdom’s land.”

“And your King just lets this kind of rabble terrorize his subjects?” Azula asked, finding the idea of an ineffectual monarch baffling. “Maybe you people needed the Fire Nation to maintain order after all”

“I would hardly call getting robbed when I went to the market ‘order’,” Lei said, a slight edge to his tone. He decided to not hold her condescending statement against her and crossed his legs. “Besides, what king? Apparently the palace is empty. He just vanished sometime after Ba Sing Se was occupied.”

“Is that so?” Azula said, vexed by the news. She wondered briefly if she had forgotten killing Kuei during their last interaction in the palace. Her brow furrowed as she considered how much had changed in the short time she languished in prison.

Linh returned, carrying a glass jar with a green-tinted liquid inside, and sat down next to her son. Carefully she applied the sweet-smelling concoction to his bruise. Having heard part of their discussion, she added, “A vacant throne is only going to cause more trouble for the common people. Ambitious, petty fools seek power… But, supposedly the Harmonist consider themselves higher than all that.”

Azula resented the implication she was a petty fool but stayed silent as she listened. Lei flinched as his mother pressed a little too hard against the bruise. Once she was finished, he said, “Maybe we should give them some credit. Perhaps this ‘Heavenly Mistress’ they all love to talk about really does derive her authority from the spirits.” Dejectedly he sighed, becoming sullen. “Doubt it, though. Probably just a bandit hiding behind a fancy title. Like any other noble.”

Azula crossed her arms, finding his tone beyond disrespectful. “While that may be true in this miserable country, elsewhere, like, say… the Fire Nation, a Fire Lord is chosen because of his bravery and ability to command respect of his people.” She realized her error only after she stopped talking, looking away. “No offense intended. That is just what I have heard.”

“Dear girl, you might as well hold up a giant sign informing everyone that you are from the Fire Nation,” Lei’s mother snapped. She jerked a finger at the dead monks behind Azula. “Keep it to yourself, or risk attracting far worse attention. Many of us still remember what it was like to be on the receiving of your homeland’s spear.” With that, she stood and disappeared back into the house, briefly reappearing to look out the hole in the wall left by the monk Lei had tossed through. “Did you have to throw him into the house, boy?”

“I didn’t, I swear! Zhen hit his own man!” Lei protested as she prodded the splintered wood. She shrugged, vanishing again. Lei sighed and stood, brushing off his trousers. The sensation of the sticky poultice was unpleasant and he attempted to adjust the collar of his overcoat. “Well, Ran… That’s enough action for one day. Are you going to be moving on soon?”

“Yeah… I am…” Azula muttered, burning what remained of the paper. She couldn’t help but find it baffling that her country wasn’t doing more to protect their loyal citizens. How had things fallen apart so quickly? She raised a finger. “Tell me. If I wanted to find more of these Harmonists, where would I look?”

Lei scratched the back of his head and answered, “I couldn’t really tell you. They are kind of just… everywhere.” He stopped, a thought coming to him. “…You could try visiting Gaipan, or what’s left of it.”

“I take it something happened?” Azula pressed him, as she recognized the name. At one time it had been among the most profitable of the Fire Nation’s colonies.

“Man, have you been living in a cave for the last month…” Lei commented. and when she narrowed her eyes, he waved his hand. “Kidding.” Becoming serious himself, he said, “Those poor guys never could catch a break. First the dam broke, flooding the place, and they rebuilt. Next thing you know, the war is over.” He came a little closer and lowered his voice, “We helped some folks fleeing the village. They told us the Harmonists slaughtered everyone and set the whole place ablaze.”

For once Azula found herself troubled. Not out of altruism, but rather the idea that her brother was turning a blind eye to the safety of the Fire Nation’s citizens. She could use their rage to march home with an army at her back. The very idea excited her, and she made a fist. “Sounds like a lead. That is where I am going.”

Lei was about to speak, but Linh reappeared and said, “Not so fast, Ran. I believe it is I who owe you now.”

Azula shook her head quickly and held up both hands. “You unblocked my chi. Consider this my repayment.”

“Unacceptable. My life is in no way equivalent to your abilities,” Linh said, putting a hand on her son’s back. “If you wouldn’t mind, take this one along.”

“Huh!?” Azula and Lei exclaimed in unison. He stepped away, raising his arms defensively.

Linh chortled at their shared reaction of surprise and crossed her arms. “Now, boy, don’t act as though it’s not boring here. Seize this opportunity to meditate on the world. You might learn a thing or two from Ran about proper bending.” She looked over to Azula, adding, “And you girl. Talented, you are, but you are obviously a stranger in this land. I give it a day before you are swindled out of the very clothes we have given you.”

“You underestimate me,” Azula said flatly, fatigue finally settling on her limbs. Wanting to be done with tedious conversation, she studied Lei, resting a finger on her chin. “A servant… might be useful, though.”

“Whoa, whoa! Don’t I get a say in this?” Lei protested, finding the ominous glint in her eye more than a little unsettling. “It’s not like a fire bender is going to teach me anything.” He pointed at the house, “Besides, what about you, Ma?”

“Me? I am heading up north to visit my brother. Things are getting a little too hectic around here for my tastes,” Linh said, offering a warm smile as she put a hand on his cheek. “My son, do not fret. I am more than capable of taking care of myself.” Azula curled up her nose, finding the display of parental affection grotesque. Lei stayed silent as his mother continued, “I have never been able to provide you proper instructions on earthbending. I think its time for you to search elsewhere.” She dropped her hand and leaned in, “Of course, you could come with me. I’m sure your nieces would be thrilled to see you again.”

Azula watched as Lei’s face paled and hastily he cut her off, “You know! Traveling with Ran doesn’t sound all that bad.” He looked over at Azula. “If that is okay with you.”

“It most certainly will be dangerous,” Azula mentioned, having an internal debate if he would actually be any use to her.

“My nieces are far worse than whatever the Harmonists are capable of,” Lei said without a hint of irony. He seemed genuinely terrified of his extended family.

“Fine. Just don’t slow me down,” Azula said invoking a commanding tone she was used to using with her former friends. “I also expect you to be able to follow my orders.”

“I think I’ve got longer legs than you, so if anything, you might slow _me_ down,” Lei retorted cheekily and her eyes narrowed. He put a hand on his chin. “As for following orders, no can do, I’m afraid. The army never really appealed to me. Far too restrictive.”

Azula frowned, used to others rolling over in the face of her authority. He was unaware of who she really was, though. Instead she said, “Then what good are you as a servant?”

Lei did a deep bow and answered sarcastically, “Your majesty, I am capable of cooking and moving small rocks. I can also navigate terrain and administer basic first-aid. Otherwise, I trust in your abilities to handle whatever situation arises on your own.”

Azula stared at him silently, unable to decide if he would by any use to her at all. He certainly was harmless, and seemed more like an obnoxious rodent than someone who might stab her in the back. She also was aware that a local would help with navigating the country’s customs. With his utility in mind, she gave a curt nod. “Very well, Lei. Rocks and cooking.”

Lei’s mother clapped her hands together. “Wonderful. Now, boy, help me prepare these men so they can move on properly.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lei responded, holding his breath and walking over to the first charred corpse, dragging it off to the side as he tried not to gag.

As he started to line up the bodies, his mother spoke to Azula, “Ran, you look absolutely exhausted. Go inside and rest. We intended to share our lunch—the bowl should still be there.”

On cue, Azula’s stomach growled, and she glanced down as if betrayed by it. Quietly she relented, “…Fine.”

She left and Lei set to opening graves for each of the men, while his mother said a few words. It was an arduous affair; once finished, though, he took some extra time to smooth out the loose ground on top so as to not disturb the natural environment. Then the two of them joined Azula inside to prepare for their coming journey.

-

Azula opted to sleep in the front room, keeping her back to the wall so she could ensure no one got the drop on her. She managed to sleep soundly through the night regardless, and was only awoken by the sound of someone shuffling by early in the morning. She cracked open an eye, watching curiously as Lei yawned and stepped outside.

Creeping over to where the hole in the wall that’d been sealed by solid earth, she poked a small hole through it, figuring a little draft wouldn’t make the peasant hovel any less inhabitable. She watched nosily as Lei began what she guessed was some kind of meditative exercise. He loosened his shoulders and took several deep breaths to relax further. Centering himself on the earth below him, he slowed his movements and cut a circle of mud around his feet. Left and right he swayed, hands outstretched as the moving mass of soft earth raised and fell along his meditative motions.

Before Azula could ponder her new companion’s style, Linh’s voice from behind startled her. “My boy may be lazy and unmotivated, but when he sets his mind to something, he can be surprisingly disciplined.”

Azula spun around and found Lei’s mother standing there with a large pack already on her back. The girl stood up, saying, “Just trying to better understand who I am going to be… traveling with.”

“You could try talking to him,” Linh said, watching Azula closely. The air between them was different, a distinct coldness present. “If you are wondering, earth. He takes after his father.”

“Interesting, I assumed he was a waterbender,” Azula mumbled thoughtfully, grabbing her already-packed bag from the edge of her sleeping mat. “His attitude, footing, and motions all suggest passivity rather than stubbornness.”

“Shockingly limited analysis,” Linh responded bluntly, leaning against the wall. Her eye’s narrowed as she studied the girl. “Considering your skill, I would have expected a more nuanced understanding of the elements…”

Azula bristled at the woman’s condescending tone. She raised an eyebrow, shifting. “Have I done something to offend you?”

Linh pushed off the wall and said, “No. You haven’t, Ran.” She stepped closer, then stopped. “Lei is a sweet boy, even though he lost his father. He has never let it harden him…” She fell silent, seeming pained. “I, however, cannot say the same.”

“But it was your suggestion,” Azula said, confused at first, but then it dawn on her. She raised a hand. “I get it. You are worried the wrong kind of experiences will change him for the worst.” An easy enough realization, but one she found most incomprehensible. The desire of a mother to protect the innocence of her son from the harsh realities of the world was an utterly pointless idea to Azula. She frowned and suppressed the urge to say that Lei had to grow up eventually. Opting to stick with a diplomatic approach, despite how uncomfortable the conversation was making her, she held out both hands. “Listen, if it bothers you that much, then I do not need a servant of such questionable quality.” She quickly shrugged as well, adding, “I just assumed taking him along would make us even.”

Annoyed with the girl’s attitude, Linh shook her head. “No, that is not what I am asking you to do.” She turned away and made her way over to the door before stopping. “Lei has wanted to leave home for awhile now. This is his first real chance to do so, and I would be a terrible parent to force him to come along with me.” She hesitated and sighed, “Whoever you are, Ran, and whatever you plan to do—I just hope you can appreciate that I am losing my son.” Azula raised a finger and was about to argue that there was nothing to appreciate, but instead elected to stay quiet. Anything to be free of the awkward conversation sooner.

It took Lei another hour to finish his routine, and in that time Azula double-checked the supplies she was bringing along. She counted one bed roll, whatever rice remained after being split among the three, and a pouch of water. All in all, she was confident that the provisions could last her several days minimum and a few weeks if she rationed them.

Once everyone was ready to leave, the three headed back into the village where Lei bid a tearful farewell to his mother at the edge of a farm on the outskirts of the community. Unable to to watch another display of familial affection, Azula inched away until she was standing under a nearby tree. To distract herself from the disgusting visage, she amused herself by burning the leaves which had collected underneath the thick branches.

Always a disquieted mind, Azula did her best to suppress flashes of her earlier conversation with Linh which was playing on repeat, interrupting her thoughts. Sitting quietly, holding a leaf in hand she wordlessly lit it on fire. The flame spread quickly from the stem upwards, consuming it entirely. Puzzled, she stopped and looked around. “Still gone, Mother?”

There was a distant chirp, but otherwise she received no answer. Another leaf became ash in her hand. “Fine. Ignore me, I prefer it.”

A few more minutes passed, and she was just about ready to leave without Lei when he appeared, standing over her, “Having fun?”

Azula came to her feet. “Not particularly.” She stood, dusting off her pant legs. She gave him a stern look, “All done? It’s not too late to go running after her.”

“Are you crazy? I’m not that much of a mama’s boy!” Lei declared, sounding genuinely offended as he made a fist. “Adventure! Like in stories!” He paused, lowering his hand. “Or at least visiting a burnt wreck of a village. Whatever is good, really.”

Azula did not expect the burst of enthusiasm, but smirked. “Alright then. Don’t get your hopes up. Burnt wreckage isn’t that impressive.” She turned and was about to start walking when she paused, “What do you mean ‘mama’s boy,’ Lei?”

“Oh, finally an easy question,” Lei said, coming to terms with the idea his traveling companion had spent the majority of her life in a cave somewhere. The two of them headed down the road as he explained, “A mama’s boy is some loser who always goes running to his mom whenever he so much as scrapes his knee.”

His explanation immediately conjured images of Zuko and his complete inability to handle even the most benign joke without crying for their mother. Remembering a prank she was quite proud of as a young child, Azula cracked the faintest smile and said, “Sounds like my pitiful excuse for a brother.”

“There you go. He’s mama’s boy,” Lei said, allowing his hat to hang down his back. He gave her a sly look. “So you have a family.”

Azula clicked her tongue and made a short chopping motion with her hand, “I do, and I would rather not talk about them.”

“Ohoho. Dramatic. What are you, some kind of exiled noble?” Lei pried jokingly.

“Hilarious,” Azula said, having to do a double take to make sure he wasn’t serious. She produced a small orb of fire. “Ask another question, and I will not hesitate.”

“Scary,” Lei said, not really all that intimidated by her threat. “If you decide to set me alight, avoid the face. It’s my best feature.”

“I will take that under consideration,” Azula said, the flame vanishing. Ahead, she could see trees with red leaves. She tapped her chin. “The attack on Gaipan. It occurred after the war, correct?”

“Um… yeah. Must have been a couple of weeks ago,” Lei said thinking back, trying to remember precisely when he and his mother aided the haggard colonists.

“Fascinating. That means they waited long enough for the soldiers protecting the settlement to withdraw,” Azula said putting together the bigger picture in her head. She theorized that the men in white must’ve lacked the forces to properly engage organized troops. “Cowardly, but killing civilians sends a clear message and minimizes risks.” Then another detail occurred to her and she muttered, “That woman… she said she needed a fleet.”

“Woman?” Lei said, glancing over at his brooding companion and wondering who she was talking about.

Lost in thought, Azula continued to talk to herself, “Gaipan has strategic value. That was why we founded it in the first place. Whoever controls it controls the river that separates the Southern half of the kingdom from the rest.” She made a fist and slammed it into her palm. “The Harmonists are trying to secure the waterways. Doing so would let them monitor the flow of both goods and people.”

Lei snapped his fingers and said, “Ran!” She jumped, startled by his voice and he asked, “What are you talking about?”

Azula sighed, annoyed he hadn’t been following her self-absorbed ramble. “If I intended to rule this miserable country, my first move would be strangle its trade and starve its cities into submission.” Confident she had managed to see through her adversaries’ plans, she smirked, “That is exactly what they are trying to do. Brilliant, really.”

“Have you… given much thought to conquering the Earth Kingdom?” Lei asked, casting a wary glance in her direction.

“Please, Lei. Let a girl have her secrets,” Azula said, shrugging her shoulders as she made eye contact with him. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to hear the answer to.” She pointed forward, “Come on now. No turning back. I want to see if the Harmonists are maintaining a sizable garrison.”

“Uh-huh… Let’s try to avoid getting too ahead of ourselves,” Lei said, realizing he might have unknowingly gotten wrapped up in something a bit bigger than he expected. Though it was definitely still better than dealing with his family.

\---

On Southernmost edge of the Earth Kingdom’s coast, a mighty Empire-Class Battleship towered over the sandy shore. A leviathan of black steel floating ominously on the water, shadowed by the moonlight above, it was part of the legacy of the Hundred Year War. Three enormous smokestacks reached into the sky; the vessel seemed to challenge the mountains themselves on who was fit to dominate the land.

This particular ship, though, was under new management, as indicated by the yellow banner fluttering in the wind, depicting two snakes circling a sun. Atop the titanic vessel’s deck stood a man, shoulders broad and stance imposing, with a single hand resting on the golden hilt of his kilji. He focused his sole good eye intently on the tree line as he waited patiently for word to arrive from the North.

He watched thoughtfully as a rider finally emerged from the trees, galloping at break neck speed toward the vessel. There was a brief moment for him to adjust the headscarf he wore, to better cover his grievously scarred face; he then waited at the ramp for the new arrival.

The rider, a young woman in her mid-twenties, brought her dark umber ostrich horse to a stop at the foot of the ramp. Named Lian, riders like her were the backbone of their planned rebellion, as they ensured its isolated forces remained in contact. Lian ascended aboard the ship and approached him with a deep bow out of respect. “General Ryong. I bring word from His Holiness Hua.”

She offered a sealed letter and Ryong took it. “Thank you, Lian. I trust your ride was uneventful?”

“Of course, sir,” Lian answered with youthful passion, watching as he used a small dagger to break the seal. “A few patrols here and there are hardly an issue. There are more bandits than soldiers.”

“As is to be expected. The Earth King’s armies are paralyzed without unified leadership,” Ryong said absent-mindedly as he read through Hua’s update. An outspoken spiritual leader, Hua had managed to incite a riot among the peasants within one of the colonies. The attack worked perfectly as a cover for his own raid on a possible White Lotus safe house. Unfortunately, the building was found abandoned; as result, it was burnt to the ground during the chaos.

Ryong accepted the report with a nod and folded the paper, tucking into the sleeve of his robe. “I will bring this to our Mistress. For now, I want you to send a message to Herald Wen—inform him that he is to cease all proselytizing among the Si Wong tribes. We are not the Fire Nation. Their cultural practices are their own.” He fished out a second sealed document and handed it over to her. “We only ask for their support. This is by Heavenly decree.”

“Yes, General,” Lian said, gingerly taking the order, knowing better to question the instructions. She took a step back, lingering. “Forgive my brashness, but how is Lady Zhi? We haven’t received word from her in nearly two weeks now. Is she well?”

“My Lady is in seclusion, consulting the spirits. Please do not worry for her safety,” Ryong said, clasping his hands together within his sleeves. “I assure you, this discomforting stillness will pass. As all does with time.”

“That is good news, General,” Lian said with a hint of relief. “Her guiding presence helps morale immensely.” She bowed her head respectfully once more and added, “I must be off. May the spirits watch over you.”

“Same to you, Lian,” Ryong said, watching as she left, mounting her ostrich horse and retreating to the forest once more.

He turned as she galloped away, and descended into the ship. Above the air was warm and humid, but below the upper deck the temperature plunged into freezing. The general shivered, rubbing his arms and watching his own breath escape in puffs of white. The pipes and floor were coated in a thin layer of frost stretching from the admiral’s quarters. The cold was almost unbearable for Ryong, but he ignored his discomfort for the sake of his lady.

He paused in front of the door, taking a few minutes to ensure he was presentable to be in her presence. Once satisfied, he slowly opened it with a sharp metallic whine. Inside he found Heavenly Mistress Zhi seated cross-legged on the floor on the other side of a wooden low table, draped over which was a detailed hand-drawn map of the Earth Kingdom. Her eyes were closed; she was meditating, just like she had been when Ryong left her the day prior. Hoarfrost had settled in a thin sheen, like dust across her skin, collecting on her face. It turned her dark eyelashes grey in the dim light and collected around her nose, a useful reminder that her body was still functioning. A single solid tendril of water attached at the base of her back was suspended in the air, shimmering in the room’s lighting. The sight of the tendril never failed to make him a bit uneasy; he was certain he had seen the tentacle become animated, despite his lady being absent from her body.

He knew well to practice patience while his lady was away. He took a seat across from her still form, eye drifting to the solid gold multi-armed statue behind her. Faded with age, the figure had long lost its sheen—yet it’s figure was still visible. It depicted a woman with long hair, flowing like a stream across her body. Ornate silks draped across her form, folding into a seal’s tail at her waist. What made Herald Arnakugaska most exceptional was the additional eight limbs behind her, arms of flowing water which curved around her to line the palms of her hands to collect offerings from devoted followers. Currently resting in her golden palms were a few coins, offered by Zhi for protection.

Ryong himself was never one for spiritual matters. He was skeptical of the legend which Zhi had recounted to him; nonetheless, he admired her dedication to replicating Arnakugaska’s incredible self-control and discipline in maintaining subconscious control of her many limbs.

He decided to spend the time studying the war map on the table. Green wooden blocks concentrated near Ba Sing Se reflected the crushing numerical superiority of the Council of Five’s armies. The rest of the surface was far more colorful, with several small yellow flags embedded near the scattering of villages that were sympathetic to the Harmonists’ call for reforms. Last were the red squares, placed across the northern half of the Kingdom, showing the location of numerous Fire Nation colonies—a blight they were working to address.

The situation wasn’t unfavorable, Ryong thought. Though he was unsure how he was supposed to produce a crushing victory. Most of the troops they’d garnered were peasants or monks who had little formal training; even less were competent benders. It was a far cry from the disciplined troops he was used to leading.

As he sat there pondering the predicament, Ryong remembered how fate could work in strange ways. His lady possessed a foresight few others did; he just needed to ensure whatever conditions she dictated were met when the time came. He was so lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t even notice something brushing against his leg. Remembering himself, Ryong looked down to find Zhi’s two-headed serpent had slid down from its preferred resting spot above the doorway.

The animal was now trying to nestle underneath a loose portion of his robes. Noticing that its left head was drooping, he asked aloud, “She didn’t take you along, Almia?” A spiny square head bobbed sullenly, its yellow eyes staring up at him.

“Hmm. I take it Tazal wasn’t in the mood to share,” Ryong commented, allowing the beast to slither into his sleeve. He shuddered as its rough, cold scales slid across his skin. The creature itself was peculiar—a collective manifestation of two spirits who didn’t necessarily see eye to eye. Ryong recalled his lady explaining to him their existence, but the particulars eluded him.** After some struggling, the snake heads popped out of his collar with a satisfied hiss.

As he glanced back up, Ryong saw his lady had returned. Zhi opened her eyes, revealing two irises a deep, bleeding black. She blinked slowly and her eyes returned to their normal pale grey. The left head, smoother and rounder than the right, became animated again. It immediately tucked itself lower into Ryong’s robe, grateful to be nestled somewhere warm.

Regaining herself, Zhi calmly scanned the room taking the time to collect her bearings. Once convinced she had returned successfully, her gaze drifted to Ryong. With the kind of peace he treasured that only her meditations could bring, she muttered quietly, “My love. I always cherish the sight of you.” The tendril behind her remained in place, as she tried to split her focus between the man across from her and maintaining its shape.

Her monotone voice did little to convey her sincerity, but he knew well enough. He turned from her steady gaze, uncomfortably aware he was unworthy of her genuine affection. He fished out the parchment from earlier, setting it down in the middle of the map. “From Hua.”

Zhi slowly reached over and wrapped her hand around the paper. Using her long nails as a guide, she carefully read through every word. “Failure was to be anticipated. The White Lotus might have chosen to reveal themselves to the world, but they are still nothing more than frightened old men who prefer to cower in darkness.”

Using the moisture in the air, she soaked the parchment through, causing the ink to bleed illegibly. “Hua’s doubt in me is most unacceptable. It should be understood by now that I will _not_ share power with anyone else. The White Lotus is to become ash. Such is my decree.” She paused, finally using the tentacle to reach over to the other side of the room. It wrapped around a calligraphy brush laying on a shelf and slowly brought it back over to her. She dipped the brush into a container of ink resting on the table and penned new instructions onto a clean sheet of parchment. Stamping it with her own seal, she glanced up. “How goes the search for the king?” Her tendril returned to its original position, hovering just above the table.

“I have received several reports of peasants matching his description, though they are scattered across the land,” Ryong answered, remembering just a handful off the top of his head. “No bears, though.”

“Intriguing. Send men to investigate all possible leads,” Zhi said, turning her attention to the map. She gave no comment as she pushed several of the green blocks to different places.

Ryong gently rubbed a spot underneath Tazalmia’s heads, causing the snake to push into his hand pleasantly. “As you command, my lady.”

“The Dai Li have redoubled their own efforts. I fear they will fabricate a successor to our old king,” Zhi said. She was fully aware her ability to seize the throne would be greatly hindered, were her enemies able to unify behind a new monarch. “Obviously this cannot be allowed. If the boy is ill-prepared to announce his recognition of my authority, then he must die so no other can claim to be his relation.” She paused, noticing the serpentine heads who were enjoying the security provided by Ryong’s robe. She tilted her head, the flicker of her eyes the only hint of expression. “Most fascinating. I was always under the impression you three preferred a degree of separation.”

Perplexed himself, Ryong’s eye drifted down; amusingly, he found Tazalmia staring up at him, equally baffled by their current position. He offered his lady a shrug. “Let’s… call it a temporary alliance. We three hold little love for the cold.” Tazalmia rotated its heads to face her. While it made no movements, it seemed to be in agreement with the general’s answer.

“Oh, I see,” Zhi muttered. It was almost amusing, if not endearing, their desire to create an unnecessary competition for her affections. She moved her hand in a slow, smooth motion, her tone turning metrical. “I am certainly glad to know my conspirators are willing to play nice in my presence. Everything under the sun is chaos. Life is a difficult affair to conduct when one is alone.”

Dropping her philosophical tone she sighed, shutting her eyes. Ryong stared at her curiously. “Has something occurred, my lady?” He knew little about her forays into the Spirit World, aside from the fact they carried risks.

Distant, Zhi put both her hands together in her lap and said, “We had intended to visit Wan Shi Tong to finish our game of Pai Sho.” Her brow furrowed ever so slightly. “However, Tazal and I came across Avatar Aang before we reached the library.”

Hearing this, Tazal snapped its jaw open, revealing two impressive white fangs glistening with a deadly venom. Ryong leaned forward, putting both elbows on his knees. “That seems… unlikely.”

“Exceptionally unlikely. I can only think that, perhaps fate intended for us to meet,” Zhi agreed, shifting back into a more relaxed posture and placing her hands in her lap. “It was the boy, no doubt. We are fortunate Tazal chose to remain cordial in his presence. Since Avatar Aang was so intrigued by my appearance, he invited me to visit the Southern Air Temple.”

Ryong could tell by her voice that she had already made her decision. Concerned, he started, “Wait are you—” Almia, equally worried, snapped her jaw at Tazal. Ryong was distracted by their sudden struggle, and only once he thumped them both on their heads did the two stop.

Seeing the discord, Zhi took a deep breath. “My deepest apologies, Almia. I should have consulted you as well.” She performed a half-bow from her waist toward the snake, which in turn also bowed its own head in acknowledgment. Once the display was concluded, she straighten back up and said, “But I believe it would be beneficial to converse with our adversary. He is just a boy. I am merely curious if he has actually learned anything from the fate of his people.”

“He obviously hasn’t, my lady,” Ryong said, his temper briefly flaring, tightening his fist. “The Fire Lord was one man. Nothing he accomplished was possible without legions behind him. Not a single other person burned for the crimes of the Fire Nation, yet the Avatar wiped his hands and declared all that could be done, has. It is that boy’s fault alone this cursed stagnation has been forced upon the world.”

Zhi remained quiet, listening to his anger, and only spoke once she was certain it had subsided. “Do not fret, my beloved. Our conflict with Aang is an inevitability. There is no doubt that he holds naively to the premise that talking can solve the challenges presented by this new era of peace.” She trailed off, her face completely blank. “It is a commendable belief, but one that sides with those who sought extinguish our people.”

Ryong made a pained expression underneath the white cloth draped over his face, and his good eye flicked away. “Well… your people.”

“They are your people now, as much as mine,” Zhi responded insistently, finding his self-hatred a troubling aspect of their relationship. “The man I love has never once behaved in a way that would stain his honor. Even now he chooses to stand between the less fortunate and an institution that intends to run roughshod over their right to self-determination.”

Her praise caused Ryong great anxiety, and he started to clench and unclench his hands, trying to suppress the memories of a past he had tried hard to forget. Shakily, he whispered, “Please… please spare me your kindness. We both know that is not true.”

“But it is. Almia and Tazal would have never accepted you otherwise,” Zhi said, making a small gesture to the serpent, whose heads both were equally frustrated by his continued unwillingness to forgive himself. “If you do not wish to believe me, trust in them. They are a far better judge of character than most.”

Ryong was unable to speak at first, but finally allowed himself to take a deep breath. He exhaled and shivered, the creeping chill overtaking his body inescapable. “I am sorry. Our encounter with the… the princess was disconcerting.”

“Your loss of focus is of no consequence,” Zhi said gently, knowing being repelled by an unarmed opponent had wounded his pride. “Despite her demoralized spirit, she was exceptionally skilled.”

“She was neutered, you mean. Had Azula been able to bend, I would be dead,” Ryong said, recognizing his own shortcomings as a warrior. He paused, considering the letters found within the ship indicating the princess had been banished to secure the realm.

Zhi remained motionless, far less interested in the feuding nobility of the Fire Nation. She spoke again, “Her combat prowess is notable. However, I am confident you would have bested her.” Thinking, she chose to focus intently on the beads around his neck. “Though… I have feeling we’ve not seen the last of that girl.”

Ryong’s hand drifted to his kilji’s hilt, gripping the weapon tightly. “I will have men dispatched. She must be held responsible for her families crimes.”

“No,” Zhi said flatly, causing him to grunt in surprise. Tazalmia also poked further out from his robe, curious. “I will not allow you to have the blood a child on your hands. Allow her to choose her own path. If she is as you say, then it will lead her back to us anyway.” Ryong was apprehensive at the idea and was about to speak, but was interrupted when Zhi gracefully came to her feet. First, she allowed the tendril to melt into a bowl near where she had been sitting. She then wordlessly walked over to his side and sat down on her knees. “Tazal, Almia. leave us.”

Tazalmia hissed and removed itself from his robe, slithering back to its pipe above the door. Using its impressive length, the beast stretched upwards, wrapping around the hanging bar above the door. Calmly Zhi began to unwrap the cloth around Ryong’s head. “Let us stop discussing politics. There will be plenty of time to do so tomorrow.”

Panicked, Ryong grabbed her wrist, protesting. “My lady!” He met her piercing grey eyes with his own pleading gaze.

“I wish you wouldn’t hide your face from me,” Zhi murmured softly, pushing his hand off with her other. She continued, revealing a face marked by years of warfare. Deep grotesque scars traced his features haphazardly like deep canyons, and dark burns left his hair patchy and skin discolored. Tenderly, she placed a hand on his cheek, caressing the edges of the wounds with care. “No matter what you may believe, I like to look upon all of you.”

Ryong tried to pull away, unable to comprehend her capacity for forgiveness. Though in the end he relented, sinking into her arms. Like the room, she was cold to the touch. Regardless, he found her embrace comforting. “I am undeserving of such devotion, my lady. I am still very much the man I used to be. At least allow me the decency of concealing him.”

He was getting worked up again. Zhi put a hand on the back of his head, gentle but unwielding. “I do not accept that.” She pressed against his nape, a creeping sense of regret that she could not convey her emotions better. “You are neither a stranger, nor the man in your memories. You are Ryong, the General of Heaven. The synthesis of both. It is he I treasure, scars of his past and all.”

Ryong fell silent and slowly reached both arms around her waist. Pressing his face into sternum to hide his weak expression, he passionately said, “My lady. You will sit upon the throne, even if I have to tear down Ba Sing Se’s wall stone by stone with my own two hands.”

Zhi leaned down, her mouth inches from his ear, and quietly whispered, “Stay with me tonight… for tomorrow, you will ride to Omashu.”

“Omashu?” Ryong repeated, feeling her hand brush against his hair.

“Wise King Bumi is soon to pass on,” Zhi said sweetly, playing with a tuft of black hair which stuck out on the crown of his head. “Show the White Lotus that the greatest force on Earth is the will of a people who will no longer live on their knees. It is Heaven’s decree that the colonials have no place within our Sacred Kingdom.”

Ryong knew exactly what she wanted him to do and pushed away. Looking at her, he put a hand on her cheek. Her skin was flawless, as smooth as a stone that weathered a flowing river. “And you are going to the Southern Air Temple…”

Zhi draped her cold fingers over his. “Have no fear. My path stretches far ahead of me.” Her eyes flicked to the snake that was curled up tightly against the metal pipe. “I am simply being courteous. It is Tazal and Almia who wish to speak to the Avatar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while to get out, but that's mainly because the editor and I decided we'd post chapters in larger chapters less frequently, so hope you enjoy! Some thoughts just going forward..
> 
> First and foremost, this is not a redemption arc for Azula. To me, the idea that she needs to be redeemed in the first place is dumb as hell. She is the product of her upbringing and therefore needs to be allowed to gain outside perspective, not have her character development shackled to her family. Azula is an ideal anti-hero, and by god, I am going to do my best to stay true to her character while putting her in an alien situation. I am, however, taking a different approach to interpreting her unique way of thinking, since I find the crack psychology some fans force onto her complete garbage.
> 
> It’s also worth noting that I am including a lot of OCs because while I like Azula, I am also interested in the world and people around her. Like Zuko, Iroh, and Aang. Other characters from the actual show will appear but some will be in different contexts. I also have absolutely no intention of shipping Azula with anyone, OC or not. It’s not a headcanon thing, I am just not interested in writing teenage romance. That’ll be for the adults of the story.
> 
> And a brief note about the villains: as a whole, the movement is based on the Taiping Heavenly Rebels sans the Christianity. The usage of the term “heaven” might seem odd in the context of Avatar, but it is strictly in the Taoist sense. Invoking a power above that of Earth, similar to how Azula herself monologues about divine right to rule in the show. Ryong and Lady Zhi themselves are based on three of Korra’s villains. The former is tones of Amon, while the latter is mainly a mash up of Zaheer and Unalaq (emphasis on the idea that both men sought an alternative to the Avatar.) Also, while bloodbending is over done, I do want to clarify only Almia bloodbends, and when we get to it I’d like to explore the ethics where the show couldn’t.
> 
> [Here's some sketches of Lin, Ryong, and Zhi](https://imgur.com/a/bB0s69D); more art will be posted [@splatsune-sketch on tumblr](https://splatsune-sketch.tumblr.com/). Thanks for taking the time to read, and see you next time!


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